


You Breathe In When I Exhale

by impassivetemerity



Category: Newsflesh Trilogy - Mira Grant
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impassivetemerity/pseuds/impassivetemerity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaun had a knack for knowing when George needed a break, a talent even she hadn’t mastered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Breathe In When I Exhale

 Three thirty is when Shaun finally gets tired of being ignored on the other side of the door that separates his room from George’s. She’s been working on content for the past six hours and shows no sign of stopping any time soon judging by the sound of typing that is coming from her desk. It’s hardly loud enough to be audible, but Shaun fills in all the blanks when he needs to. Even though she’s not paying attention, he still talks at the door, asking her questions that get no answers. He’s always liked the sound of his voice, and George doesn’t let any opportunity to remind him of it go by. Instead of barging in on her—Shaun was pretty certain George had a gun sitting in a drawer in her desk, and she had been clear about what interrupting her when she was on a roll meant—he just mumbled something about being right back and left his room.

                The absence of Shaun’s voice was what finally broke George’s concentration, causing her to look up from the screens to the door, which was slightly opened towards her brother’s room. She glanced over at it for a moment and then pushed her chair back from the desk, leaning over slightly to look at it again. It hadn’t moved in the last few hours as far as she could see, and the lack of light coming from under it made her assume that Shaun had gone to bed out of boredom.

Satisfied with her answer, George pushed back into her desk and continued typing, pausing every few moments to sip from a luke warm, half flat Coke that had been opened who knows how long ago. If she finished this article and about half of an unfinished op-ed piece she would have all of her contract content for the next week, leaving free time to start a few articles she had been wanting to do for a few weeks on the social acceptance of various types of KA.

                When a warm hand closes over one of George’s bare shoulders, it comes as a shock and might make her almost drop her coke on the keyboard. There’s a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of her chest, in her favourite mug adorned with famous quotes from reporters through the ages—it was tucked in her stocking during Christmas when she was nine without a gift tag, but Shaun had admitted it was from him years later, a gift that George had treasured.

“Considering giving this a rest any time soon? I mean, a guy can’t sleep with all of that noise.”

“If this is the best bribe you can give me, no.”

George couldn’t stop from smirking, though she gratefully took a careful sip from the mug, letting Shaun hold it for a few moments while she blew on the surface before taking another sip. It was made with two packets of powder, just how she liked it. Shaun had gone out grocery shopping a few weeks ago, coming back with a few boxes of the powdered drink mix now that the winter season was settling in over California, and because they had planned some trips that crossed through a few hazard zones that would be getting snow soon, all in the name of ratings for Shaun’s blog. Dave had agreed to come along with them, wanting  to get some extra field work during cold months in before he headed off to Alaska to poke a bevy of freezing dead things with sticks.

Shaun had a knack for knowing when George needed a break, a talent even she hadn’t mastered. Once she had finished the sentence she had been working on, George stopped typing, taking the ceramic mug from her brother and taking another few sips before setting it down by her coke. The hand on her shoulder was joined by a significantly warmer one on her other shoulder, thumbs rubbing light circles into the tense muscles. Moments like this were not common, but not a rarity either, always coming just when either Mason needed it, and that is how they liked it. 


End file.
